


You Look Good in My Shirt

by msred



Series: Home [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: F/M, Keith Urban - Freeform, New York Rachel, Pinn friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-13
Updated: 2012-06-13
Packaged: 2017-11-07 16:27:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/433156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msred/pseuds/msred
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been six years, but she'd know that body anywhere. And she'd be lying to herself (which she'd gotten very good at) if she tried to say she wasn't happy to see him there, nursing a beer, alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Look Good in My Shirt

" **You Look Good in my Shirt" – Keith Urban ~ {www[dot]youtube[dot]com/watch?v=wFj9ylA043A}**

**_When you walked up behind me and covered my eyes  
And whispered in my ear, guess who  
I rattled off names like I really didn't know  
But all along I knew it was you_ **

Rachel smoothed her denim skirt, unnecessarily, before opening the door of the bar. She had spent her first night back in town having dinner with her fathers and doing the family thing, so she decided to spend her second night unraveling and having some fun. She had promised her dads that she wouldn't stress too much over trying to get everything unpacked all in one day, and this was really the only thing she could think of to keep her mind off all the boxes cluttering her new home. She scanned the room for familiar faces; it had been a while but she still had friends in Lima. She smirked when the first familiar thing she saw was not a face, but rather a mohawked head resting atop broad shoulders and a strong, muscular back, quite noticeable through the faded blue material of his t-shirt. She hadn't exactly come looking for him (although if you asked her why, out of the whopping four bars in Lima, she had chosen the one with the least apparent class, she wouldn't be able to give a sensible answer), but she wasn't surprised, or disappointed, to see him there.

She felt silly tip-toeing across a crowded bar, but she didn't want to draw his attention with the loud 'clack' her wedges would probably make on the concrete floor. She was thankful for those wedges, however, when she stopped just behind him and realized that with her tall shoes and him sitting on a bar stool, their heights were almost even. She quickly reached her small hands around him to cover his eyes and leaned so that her mouth was centimeters from his ear. "Guess who," she breathed in her deepest, sexiest voice. She told herself that, after six years, it's not like she needed to disguise her voice anyway, but somehow, it just came out.

Puck nearly jumped out of his skin when he first felt the warm hands slide over his eyes. But when he heard _that_ voice in his ear, his stomach flipped and warmth spread through his body. It took less than a second of hearing her voice, and feeling her touch, and smelling her (and just how the fuck did she smell exactly the same after six years?) to know that this stranger was none other than Broadway beauty Rachel Berry. But hey, if she wanted to play games, who was he to let her down? "Umm, Lindsey?"

"Hmm-umm."

"Catherine?"

"Nope." Damn, where did she learn that voice? Was that part of her Broadway training or something? He _knew_ he should have gone to see one of her shows.

He started to spout off names a bit faster, not leaving her time to respond in between. "Shannon? Cindy? Quinn?" He smirked as he felt her tense behind him. "Oh! Of course! Santana!" Rachel's hands flew from his eyes to her hips and he could hear her gasp even over the music. He spun to face her, anticipating her response. "Berry! What a surprise!" but even as he said it, he smirked and spread his arms wide to pull her into a hug.

**_And, the longer we talked, the more we laughed  
And wondered why we didn't last  
It had been a long time, but later last night  
Baby, we caught up real fast_ **

They had been talking for almost two hours, and Puck was only on his second drink since she arrived. He just didn't seem to need the added entertainment of alcohol when he was with her. "Soo … you're visiting your dads then?" He had been trying for a while to figure out how to ask her how long she was going to be in town without being completely obvious.

"Nope," she shook her head and took a sip from her martini, still her first. "I live here." He had to cover his mouth with his hand to keep from spitting beer on her. She giggled and handed him a napkin that she got from the bartender's little caddy across the bar.

"I'm sorry, come again?" He wiped his hands and face with the napkin, looking to make sure he hadn't like, drooled all down the front of his shirt or something.

"I just bought a house here, about five blocks up from the high school. Well, I actually bought the house a couple months ago, but I just got into town myself yesterday."

"So, you're living back in Lima?" He was almost afraid to ask, because although she'd said it once, he just knew she was going to tell him that he was mistaken, that wasn't what she meant at all. She nodded, taking another sip from her drink and looking up at him through her eyelashes.

"Come on Puckerman, the lack of hair on 70% of your head let your brain seep out or something?" He got chills as she ran her hand over his mohawk, "Isn't that what I just said?"

Regaining his composure, Puck smirked at her and narrowed his eyes, "No need to get smart now missy. I know where you live." Rachel rolled her eyes as she drained the rest of her drink. Keeping her knees together for modesty, she shifted her feet from the bottom rung of her own barstool to the top rung of his.

"What's with the Mohawk anyway? I mean really, I'd have thought you'd outgrown that thing by now," her voice was serious, but her eyes twinkled as she rested her elbow on her knee and leaned forward. Encouraged by her forward attitude and her sudden change in posture (she was totally getting closer to him and he could see right down her shirt), he dropped his hand to her knee. He hadn't really paid any attention to her outfit before, but as he took it in now, he had to admit, he liked what he saw. Instead of her normal school-girl skirt and knee socks or flowy sundress, she was wearing a short denim skirt with a solid purple fitted, v-neck t-shirt and tall wedges with brown leather straps that made her legs look 10 feet long when combined with that skirt. He almost laughed when he realized that Rachel Berry would never fail to dress for the occasion, even when the "occasion" was just a small-town bar with a slightly country/western flavor.

"You told me once," he leaned closer to her and lowered his voice, "that you thought it was sexy." Her cheeks tinged pink at the memory. He was right; she did find it sexy. Puck saw her blush, but she didn't pull away, so he decided to push it a little bit farther. He shifted his hand so that his palm now rested on the outside of her knee and his fingers brushed across the sensitive skin behind her knee. There were two ways that this could play out, and he would know from her reaction what his next step should be. Puck was the only person who knew this (or he used to be, he had no idea how many other people knew now), but the back of her knee was kind of Rachel's "tell." Most of the time, so much as reaching for the hyper-sensitive skin would send her into a fit of giggles and have her screaming and slapping his hand away. But the other times, the times when she was turned on, he could run his fingertips over the area and she would practically melt in his hands. He strummed his fingers over the back of her leg, almost mimicking the motion he would use to strum his guitar. He watched, a self-satisfied grin spreading over his face, as her spine straightened and goosebumps popped up over her arms.

Without moving her feet from his barstool, she turned her upper body toward the bar and pretended to try to get the bartender's attention. Rachel was annoyed. Not with him, but with herself. She had not come here looking for Noah, and she certainly hadn't come looking to hook up with him (at least, that's what she kept telling herself), but no matter what her mind said or did, her body was betraying her. That had always been a problem with him. Leaning on the bar (and away from him) she set her jaw and looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "Yes," she admitted, "that hairstyle does hold a certain … charm … but I wouldn't think you would put so much stock in my opinion. You know, since you broke up with me and all." She had to choke back a gasp when his hand fell away from her knee. Damn her body and her stupid, stupid hormones. That had to be it, her hormones. She wasn't able to contain her shock quite as well when he grabbed the seat of her stool and spun her to face him.

"Excuse me?" Now he looked annoyed. "Look Berry, you might be some big shot New Yorker now, but that doesn't mean you get to rewrite history." He rolled his eyes at the look of confusion on her face. "You know damn well I didn't break up with you. _You_ broke up with _me._ " He pointed first at her, then at his own chest for emphasis.

"First of all, no need to insult me. Secondly, I most certainly did not break up with you. You broke up with me because I was going to New York." Her arms were crossed over her chest, and even though she was being totally snotty right now, he couldn't help but notice the way the movement pushed her breasts up so that her v-neck top looked almost strained.

"I did not! You said -," Puck stopped mid-sentence. The look on her face, which told him she was finished playing games, and his sudden memory of the last time they were together made him realize that she was right. She hadn't broken up with him. But he was also right; he didn't break up with her. She had just left, and he had let her go, neither of them really addressing what would come next because it was too painful. And then, because he didn't want to actually hear her tell him she was breaking up with him, he didn't call her. And she didn't call him, probably for the same reason, he decided as he studied her. He smiled and leaned toward her, returning his right hand to its previous position on her knee, "You know what this means, don't you?"

Rachel could only shake her head. She didn't trust her voice once his hand was back on her leg, touching her in that way he _knew_ drove her crazy. She had been doing so well there for a couple minutes. She had managed to be annoyed with him, thinking about how he had broken up with her all those years before, but now it seemed that her resolve was weakening again. "We never broke up, Berry." Her eyes widened and she shook her head furiously. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Was he right? She thought back to the days before she left Lima. _'Oh my God! He is right!'_

"So … what does that mean?" She slipped back into that deep, sexy voice she had used when she first arrived. Nothing had really changed, but somehow, in her mind, everything had changed. She wasn't the type of girl who went to a bar and hooked up with an old friend, an ex-boyfriend, after not seeing him for years. But what was wrong with going to a bar and leaving with your boyfriend, of almost seven years, apparently?

"Well," Puck leaned closer to her, bringing his mouth only an inch from her ear, "first it means that I need to get you out of here, cause that guy down there has been checking you out since you sat down." Rachel turned slightly to look down the bar, and, sure enough, there was an attractive blonde gentleman smiling at her. Puck slid his hand up her leg and brushed the hem of her skirt, recapturing her attention. "And as your _boyfriend,_ " he leaned even closer so that his lips brushed the shell of her ear as he whispered the word 'boyfriend,' "I am not ok with that."

Reaching blindly for her purse hanging on one of the hooks under the bar, Rachel slid off her stool and stared at him. "Coffee?"

"Nightcap," he corrected, and she nodded, already walking toward the door. "Your place or mine?" he quickly caught up with her after throwing some money on the bar.

"My place is full of boxes," they stood in the warm night air and she looked up at him expectantly, longingly.

"Right. Mine it is. You drive, I rode here with a friend," Rachel was already digging through her purse for her keys before he could finish his thought. "Besides, you only had one drink over," he looked at his watch, "more than two hours. I had a few before you got here." She stopped walking when she reached her car and turned to look at him.

"Noah?"

"Hmm?" He had butterflies in his stomach. It was weird.

"You can stop convincing me now," she grabbed the neck of his t-shirt and pulled him down so that her lips brushed against his, "you got me." She pressed her lips hard against his and, because he didn't know what else to do, he splayed one hand across her back and tangled the other in her hair as he returned the kiss. He almost fell over when she pulled away from him; he didn't realize he had been leaning into her so much. "Now get in the car." Shocked, but pleased, at her forward attitude, he nodded and climbed into the passenger seat of her small car.

**_And maybe it's a little too early  
To know if this is gonna work  
All I know is you're sure looking  
Good in my shirt  
That's right  
You look good in my shirt_ **

Rachel stretched and wiped the sleep out of her eyes, squinting against the sun shining through the window. _'First order of business: put up blinds,'_ she told herself. But as her eyes adjusted to the light, she realized that she was not in her own new bedroom, and she was not alone. As she slid up to a sitting position with her back propped against the headboard, she took in the tanned body next to her and the previous night came rushing back. She hadn't even been drunk, sure she was still a lightweight, but one drink at the bar and even less at his house would not push her over the edge, and yet somehow she felt confused and almost disoriented. He tended to have that effect on her. Any questions about why she was in an unfamiliar bed, wearing a vintage Indianapolis Colts t-shirt, were erased as her brain was flooded with memories of him touching her, kissing her.

As gently as possible, trying not to wake the beautiful man sleeping next to her, she slid out from under his arm, the one that felt so good lying across her hips, and out of the bed. She dropped a feather-soft kiss to his temple before walking around the bed to slip out of the room, hopefully unnoticed. She didn't want to make this any more uncomfortable for him than necessary. When she had circled around the foot of the bed and headed back toward the head of it, only steps from the door, she felt a strong hand circle her wrist. "Where d'ya think you're going?"

She sighed, so much for getting out without disturbing him. "Well, to start with, I was going to get what's left of my clothes. Although, I'm pretty sure my shirt is unsalvageable. I'll send yours back to you right away." She squeaked as he yanked her back toward the bed and she landed with a 'thump' right in front of where his legs were bent up at his hips.

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"I said, no. You're not leaving this room."

"Look, Noah, I appreciate the gesture," Rachel began with a small sigh. She wished she could believe that he really did want her to stay. "But I know you. We have a past, we're friends, I guess, so you don't want to hurt my feelings. But I know that you don't want your one-night-stands lingering around your house. So, I'm going to go get my clothes from somewhere on your living room floor," he moaned a little at the memory of just _why_ her clothes were on his living room floor, "and get out of here. I know you don't want me hanging around, so I'm making this easy for you."

"The fuck I don't," keeping his grip on her wrist with his right hand, Puck propped himself up on his right elbow as he snaked his left arm around her lower back, pulling her closer to him. "And you're not a one-night-stand." He pulled her arm toward him and kissed the inside of her wrist. "I thought we settled this last night. You're my girlfriend, remember?"

"Noah," Rachel dropped her eyes to her lap and let out a deep breath. She really did appreciate what he was doing, but she didn't want him to continue putting on this act. She should have known before she ever left that bar with him how much this would hurt, this getting to be with him then leaving again, but now that it was too late to do anything about that, she just needed to get out as quickly as possible before it got any worse.

"No Rachel, don't 'Noah' me. It's been six years since the last time I watched you walk away from me, and I've regretted it every day since. Not happening again." Before she knew what was happening, Puck pushed himself up and crashed his lips onto hers, tangling his hands into her hair and pulling her back down onto the bed with him. "If you _want_ to go," he panted, pulling away from her and pushing her hair behind her ear, "I won't stop you. But don't for one second think you're doing it cause of me. Cause, I swear to you, I don't want you anywhere but right here." In spite of herself, Rachel curled her legs onto the bed so that she was lying almost fully on top of him.

"I don't want to go," she breathed out, her breath still heavy from his kisses, shaking her head so that her nose brushed across his.

"Good." He kissed her hard on the lips again and used his weight to roll them so that she was right back where she had started, on the left side of his bed, and he was hovering over her. He pulled back when it was necessary for both of them to get more oxygen, and he stared at her face as her chest heaved beneath him. When his lungs stopped burning, instead of returning his mouth to her own, he attached it to the vein he could see pulsing slightly in her neck. He sucked on the skin until he could feel her squirming under him. He smirked up at her, staring at her through his eyelashes, as his hands wrapped around her thighs and he moved his head to join them.

Rachel screwed her eyes shut tightly. She tried to figure out just how she had gotten here. Yeah, she knew the logistics, but that still didn't really explain _how_ she had found herself back in Noah Puckerman's bed. It had been nearly six years since the last time she had seen him, and as far as she had believed all that time, they were over. But now, here they were. Not that she was complaining, because as his large hands pushed his shirt up her hips and spread her legs just a little farther apart and his hot breath hit her equally hot core, she was sure she was just going to melt into the mattress. And when his hot breath was replaced by his even hotter tongue, she really couldn't help the loud, low moan that escaped her throat.

Puck was just waiting for the moment he would _really_ wake up. Because really, there was no way that he was on his knees in his own bed, his lips wrapped around Rachel's most sensitive parts while her heels dug into his shoulder blades and her hands tangled into his hair as she cried his name. And really, there was no way that she had just shown up at _his_ bar the night before, only for them to discover that they had never actually broken up six years ago, making it perfectly ok for them to be here, doing this. But her nails dug into his scalp and he tasted her all over his tongue, and he decided just maybe it was real. Suddenly overwhelmed by the complete reality of the situation, Puck pulled himself away from her just a little, resting his cheek against the inside of her thigh and gulping in deep breaths to try to regain his composure.

"Is everything ok Noah? I mean, well, I … you don't have to-," he looked up at her and her brown eyes almost looked fearful. He couldn't help but chuckle a little at her completely unwarranted fear. It was just like Rachel to worry about something like him not wanting to have his face buried in her. As if that were ever possible. He turned his head to kiss the inside of her thigh softly before speaking again.

"Everything's fine baby. In fact, it's perfect. I just … somehow I forgot how incredible you taste." He started to lower his head again to prove it to her, but he was stopped by her hands on his cheeks. Puck's words had made Rachel's stomach flip. She wasn't sure why, but for some reason, that was the sexiest, and sweetest, most romantic, thing she thought she'd ever heard. She sat upright and pulled him up to meet her. She crossed her legs in front of her, and when he realized that she was temporarily (he hoped) blocking his access, he sat in front of her and stretched his legs in front of him, crossing his ankles behind her so that he enclosed her in a little ring. Rachel leaned forward and met Puck's lips with her own, catching him slightly off guard. Before he had time to really reciprocate, she had pulled away again.

"Noah, if you really mean everything you've said this morning-,"

"I do Rachel," he cut her off. "I meant every word." She lifted her hand to place one finger over his mouth and silence him.

"If you mean everything you've said this morning, I'm on board for giving us another try." Her heart swelled at the sight of the smile on his face, "But you have to know, we have issues, real issues, that we need to work through."

He nodded. At this point, he was willing to agree with almost anything she said. He would do anything to keep her saying things like _'on board for giving us another try.'_

"Starting with how, almost six years ago, I left for New York, and neither one of us," she wanted to make sure she knew she wasn't placing all the blame on him, "handled the situation appropriately."

**_Well now I'm not saying that we solved overnight  
Every way that we went wrong  
Oh, but what I'm seeing I'd sure love seeing  
Every morning from now on_ **

"You're right Rach, that was a huge mistake," he pulled her forward by her hips so that her knees rested on top of his thighs. "But I was stupid, and immature then, and I didn't know how to handle-,"

"Noah, please don't blame-," Rachel stopped abruptly when Puck covered her mouth with his fingertips.

"My turn." She smiled slightly and nodded at him. She hadn't really meant to interrupt him, but she wanted him to know she didn't blame him for everything that went wrong. "Now, I didn't know how to handle you going to New York, mostly because I was scared, so I just didn't handle it at all. I guess the upside to that is when you showed up last night, you were, technically, still my girlfriend," he smiled at her a little mischievously and she blushed, "but it was still not the right way to do things. But babe, I don't think it's a coincidence that on your second night back in Lima, when you wanted to unwind and forget about all the crap you have to do at home, you showed up at my bar. You could have gone to Kurt's, or Mercedes's, or even that snooty new martini bar, but you showed up at my bar. And it's not a coincidence that this just happened to be Finn's Saturday night for the month to have to stay over at the station."

"Noah, Finn doesn't matter here. You know that the minute we got together senior year that was completely done. That hasn't changed." He laughed at her a little. It really was cute, the way she tried to reassure him. He knew she was done with Finn. The former couple had remained friends throughout Puck and Rachel's relationship, but he never once worried about losing her to him. He didn't doubt that was still true. Besides, even though neither she nor Finn knew that he knew, he was aware of the little trip that Finn and his girlfriend, Chelsea, had taken the previous summer to see Rachel's show in New York. And with Rachel and Kurt being so close, there was no way that Rachel didn't know Finn and Chelsea were still together, strong as ever.

"I know, you little worrier," he leaned forward and kissed the tip of her nose. "But Finn's my roommate. My point was, he had to be at the fire station all night, so he wasn't home."

"You have a roommate!" Rachel slapped him across his bare chest, trying not to get distracted by the feeling of his skin under her hand. "What if … oh God, what if …"

"Babe, I knew he wouldn't be here. Trust me. I don't share, remember?" He ran his hands up and down her back until she seemed to relax. "Anyway, it's also no coincidence that you did the four-year degree thing in three years, badass by the way, then landed not one, but two roles on Broadway within the next three years," Puck was talking with increasing speed and refusing to make eye contact with Rachel, so he didn't notice the way her jaw had dropped and her hands twisted in her lap. "And then, it didn't just happen that you won a Tony for that second role at the ripe old age of 23."

"You knew all that?" The question almost came out as a whisper, because she didn't want him to hear the hitch in her voice.

"Course I did babe," he ran a hand lightly down her hair then cupped her cheek. "The college stuff I kept up with through friends, mostly Finn via Kurt. But the Broadway stuff, you're famous now babe," he winked at her and she blushed. "So, this totally doesn't make me a stalker or anything, but I googled you occasionally. And I may have watched the Tonys last year." Rachel laughed a little, she had forgotten, or made herself forget, how cute he was when he was nervous. "I just wanted to know that you were ok. I had no doubt you would do what you set out to do, and I just wanted to keep up with you a little bit." She leaned forward abruptly, kissing him soundly on the lips. His hands slid down her back and came to rest at the top of her hips, not even trying to wander southward. He was perfectly content just to be there with her, kissing her and touching her, and for the moment he didn't feel the need to push it any farther. For the moment. "Point is," he continued, resting his forehead against hers, "I know you, Rachel Berry. You would not be here, not in this room and not in Lima, if all that hadn't happened. But it did, and here you are. And that's not an accident."

**_And maybe it's a little too early  
To know if this is gonna work  
All I know is you're sure looking  
Good in my shirt_ **

"You cryin babe?" Puck worried a little when he saw the way her eyes glistened. There were many things he had remembered over the last six years (he proved that last night), but her tears were a bit confusing to him. She was always a good actress, but her time in New York had helped her hone her craft, and some of her facial expressions had changed. He couldn't tell if these tears were happy or sad, scared or angry.

"No," she sniffed. Even as she denied it, she tilted her head back to try to keep the tears from spilling over. She didn't want to be crying. She thought she had grown up, grown past her silly emotional outbursts. She wasn't a little high school kid anymore. She was a woman and she should be able to control herself better than this. It was just, everything he had said, everything he had done over the past six years. He thought about her, just as much as she thought about him. He didn't just think about her, he kept track of her. He knew what she had done, where her life had taken her. He knew she accomplished her goals, made her dreams come true, all except one. He knew all that because he _cared_ (although maybe he didn't know about that one dream that didn't come true, you know, since he _was_ the dream). He always had, and apparently, he still did. She lowered her head to look at him, trying her best to return his trademark smirk. "You love me."

She said the words as an accusation, as if it was something she expected him to deny or be ashamed of. He only laughed. "No shit, Berry." He laughed a bit harder at the look of shock on her face. "What, you want me to deny it? Nope. Don't play those games. I loved you six years ago, hell, I probably loved you eight years ago, I just didn't realize it, and I love you now. I tried not to. Dammit, I tried real fuckin hard not to, and sometimes I even believed that I didn't. But you walked in last night, and you touched me, and I heard your voice, and the second I saw those eyes," he brushed her bangs off her forehead, "I knew I was fucked. Figuratively, and hopefully, literally." Rachel laughed and he brushed the pad of his thumb across her bottom lip before leaning in to replace his thumb with his own lips. "So now, I guess the only question is," he spoke only millimeters from her mouth, "d'you love me?"

Rachel pulled back from him a little and chewed her bottom lip. Did she love him? Did she love this man who had saved her so many times in high school? The man who she had given her virginity to with only a tiny shred of hesitance? The man who encouraged her to go for every one of her dreams and pushed her to achieve them? The same man who cut her out of his life when she went after those dreams? _'That's not fair,'_ she reminded herself, _'the phone works both ways. You could have easily contacted him, but you didn't.'_ She studied his gorgeous hazel eyes, the eyes that were patiently staring back at her, waiting to hear her answer. "God Noah, of course I love you, I-,"

Rachel was cut off when Puck's lips crashed onto hers and he tackled her back onto the bed. She ran her hands over his scalp as his tongue explored her mouth. _'Oh yeah, very sexy haircut.'_ She loved the way the closely shaven sides felt sliding under her hands, and she couldn't resist latching on to the longer hairs of his hawk when he did something particularly pleasing. He didn't seem to mind either, judging by the moans that escaped his throat every time she tugged a little. "Fuck yeah," he panted, pulling away to take a few deep breaths. She leaned up and nipped at his bottom lip, distracting him as she hooked her fingers into the waist band of his pajama pants and tugged them down over his hips. When he got the hint and used his own hands to shuck the pants off completely, she began to tug the t-shirt up and over her body. "Don't," he grabbed her hands, stilling the motion, as she looked up at him quizzically. "You look good in my shirt." She didn't get to respond because his mouth was on her neck and his hands were snaking under the shirt and grazing her breasts.

**_And maybe it's a little too early  
To know if this is gonna work  
All I know is you're sure looking  
Good in my shirt_ **

"So, just out of curiosity, what would you have done if I hadn't been there last night?" Puck looked down at the beauty – his new, or old, he wasn't really sure which – girlfriend, running her fingers over his chest. He couldn't stop the smile that spread over his features when she looked back up at him and their eyes met.

"Well …" Rachel's voice trailed off and she tapped her lips with her forefinger thoughtfully. Finally, she shrugged, "I guess I'd just be in blondie's bed right now instead of yours." She grinned up at him mischievously.

"Blondie …?" He tried to figure out who she was referring to, and he had to push her off his chest in order to double over in laughter once he finally did. Rachel shrieked and planted her hands on her hips, glaring at him as she waited for an explanation. When he caught his breath and was able to stop laughing long enough to speak, Puck tried to explain his outburst. "Babe, he … wow, um ..." he took one more deep breath and cleared his throat, "Rach, that guy's gayer than Kurt."

"What are you talking about Noah? I don't understand. You said he'd been checking me out, and I looked, and he was smiling at me!" Rachel looked absolutely mortified.

Puck leaned forward and brushed his hand along her cheek as he captured her lips in his. "I really do love you babe." He smiled and she tried to look annoyed, which was becoming increasingly difficult. "But that guy was definitely not checking you out. If anything, he was checking me out, wouldn't be the first time," he scoffed, "and if he was smiling at you, it was because he recognized you from one of your shows. What, you wish he was checking you out?" It probably should have bothered him that she seemed so upset about not being checked out by some other guy at the bar, but she was Rachel. It was really hard for him to be upset with her.

"Well, no, not really," she spoke softly, a little ashamed of herself for her reaction. "But it just felt nice to be wanted," Puck nodded. He should have known, she had always been irrationally insecure about her beauty. He never really understood that. "I mean, the way you got so, I don't know … _possessive_ over me. It felt good. Kind of reminded me of what we had." He choked a little bit as he realized what she meant. His little ruse hadn't made her feel wanted by some guy who proceeded to hit on Puck every time he saw him since that one time they met on the stranger's failed date with Blaine, it made her feel wanted by him.

"Let me explain something to you. From the moment you whispered in my ear, totally sexy by the way," he grinned a little at the way she blushed, "in my mind, you were mine. I had you back in front of me, and I didn't plan on letting that change. Why do you even think I made up that stupid story? I wanted to get you out of there and have you all to myself."

"Yeah?"

"Hell yeah," he wondered when she would figure out just how freakin' awesome she really was. Cause obviously, if she even had to question what he was saying to her, she had no idea. Oh well, if she didn't know, and she didn't want to listen to him, he'd just have to show her. Again. He rolled so that he was hovering over her, his weight supported on his forearms and his hands on either side of her face.

"Dude! What's with the chick car?" The voice drifted in from the living room and Puck buried his face in the crook of Rachel's neck.

"Shit," he mumbled into the soft skin of her shoulder.

"Is that …?" Rachel's eyes grew as the familiar voice registered in her mind. "Oh God, that's -,"

"Yeah," Puck cut her off, pushing himself off of her and onto his back at her side.

"Seriously," Finn's voice was definitely closer and Rachel started checking herself to make sure that she wasn't exposed as she heard his footsteps just outside the bedroom door. When she saw the doorknob move, she leaned over her side of the bed, hoping against hope that she would see her underwear and maybe even her bra gracing the bedroom floor. Puck's t-shirt was big enough on her that it really covered everything, but she still would feel more comfortable with Finn in the room if she had her underwear on. No such luck.

"Where the hell did that car come from? Oh! Uh, sorry man," Finn stammered as he took in the sight before him. His best friend and roommate sat propped up against the headboard of the bed, glaring at him. Beside him was a petite brunette in what was obviously Puck's shirt who appeared to be looking for something on the floor. "I – I didn't think … I mean, you've never brought a girl home before, and I just, I didn't think. Sorry. Going now." Finn backed toward the door, one hand pulling the doorknob with him and the other raised in surrender. Just before he took his last step out the door, the brunette sat up and turned toward him, a sheepish smile on her face and her cheeks glowing pink.

"Hi Finn," Rachel lifted a hand and wiggled her fingers at her old friend. Puck plucked her hand out of mid-air and kissed the back of it, smiling at her then transforming his expression into a smirk as he turned to face Finn.

"Rach! Oh my God! What are you … I mean, wow, it's so good to see you!" Finn stretched his arms wide and walked quickly toward the bed. Rachel, starting to panic a little, squeezed Puck's hand and hoped he would get the clue. He didn't really need her encouraging, because he was already sitting up straighter, ready to stop his friend before he made it any farther.

"Dude," Puck spoke for the first time since Finn had entered the room, "you're my boy and all, but if you value your junk even a little, you won't take another step toward my bed or my girl." Finn blushed as he took a few steps backward. He eyed Puck, wanting to question him about calling Rachel 'his girl,' but even he could tell it was not a good time.

"Right. Umm, I'll just, you know, long night at the station so I should probably," Finn continued to stammer as he backed out of the room and pointed over his shoulder toward his own room. "Umm, Rach, I'll see you around? I mean, you know, before you head back home?" Rachel knew that by 'home' Finn meant New York, and she couldn't help but giggle when Puck shot her a sideways glance, barely containing his own smirk.

"Don't worry Finn, you'll be seeing plenty of me." She smiled and gave him one final wave as he nodded and shut the door, just before she collapsed onto Puck's lap in a fit of giggles. "Well that wasn't awkward at all," she looked up at him and swiped the tears from her cheeks.

"Maybe, but how was that shit for possessive?" he looked utterly proud of himself as he beamed down at her.

"Mmm, very nicely done, Mr. Puckerman," she placed her hands on his chest for leverage as she pushed herself up to peck him on the lips. "But what was that Finn was saying about you never bringing a girl here before?" She tried to look innocent, but the sparkle in her eyes gave her away instantly. She knew that just because he had never brought a hook-up into his and Finn's home didn't mean he didn't have them, but it certainly showed that he hadn't gone back to exactly the way he was before they had ever dated. She didn't expect him to have been celibate during her absence (especially since neither of them would have expected what was happening now), but she was proud of him for at least gaining a bit more control over his sexual urges since before they got together.

"Look Berry," he looked at her sternly, but his eyes danced across her features playfully, "I already told your sexy little ass I love you. Don't push it." To emphasize his point, he slapped her butt lightly just before he kissed her forehead and snuggled down into the bed, dragging her down with him. "Welcome home, Rachel Barbra Berry. I've missed you."

"It's good to be home, Noah Elijah Puckerman. I've missed you too."

**_And maybe it's a little too early  
To know if this is gonna work  
All I know is you're sure looking  
Good in my shirt  
You look good in my shirt  
You look good in my shirt_ **


End file.
